


from the other side

by themuslimbarbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCTV
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuslimbarbie/pseuds/themuslimbarbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have a bad habit of not saying goodbye,” he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from the other side

**I must have called a thousand times**

**.**

  

The first time Sara dies, Oliver's world ends.

There will be worse days to come, days that will be so horrible he will forget what it's even like to have a world to fall apart. But every horrible thing to happen to him begins when the Gambit sinks - in that moment he reaches for Sara and watches her slip through his fingers.

(He realizes later how fitting it is that the worst moments of his life are tied to her leaving him. After all, he took her on that boat - he killed her. Destroyed her life. And every bad thing in her life, every horrible thing she had to endure after that, happened because he asked her to come on the Gambit with him. So it's only fair that his world falls apart when she leaves.)

When he returns to Starling City, he tells people that it was Laurel that kept him alive. That brought him home. And he means it. Without her, he would have died. But what he doesn't tell them is how he _did_ die every time Sara did. How he lost himself when he lost her.

They'll never know how much changed. How much she meant to him in the end. And he thinks they’re better off that way.

 

 

The phone's ringing echoes through the foundry – cuts through the silence like a knife. Oliver almost doesn't answer it when he sees the unknown number, but changes his mind at the last second.

There's a beat before he hears, "Ollie?"

His breath hitches. "Sara," he whispers. "Where are you?"

"Nowhere special," she says.

He almost groans in frustration. "Are you safe?"

"Would you be able to do anything if I wasn't?"

"Sara..."

He can practically see the remnants of a smile on her lips. Not a full one - nothing like the one she would give him when they were young, the one that would always get them in trouble. But it's something. More than anything he's seen from her in years. Not that he’s seen much of her in years.

She doesn't respond, as if she's silently reminding him that she's still right, because there is nothing he could do. Not with the League of Assassins after her. And not with him a million miles away. So he tries to find comfort in the calmness of her voice, the steady pace of her breath. She wouldn't mock him if she were in any immediate trouble.

He thinks he should say something since she isn't, but he stops himself before he can say what he wants to. She won't come home, he knows, and if he even tries to suggest it now, she'll hang up and he'll lose her again. And he isn't ready for that. Not yet. Not if he can deny it for a little while longer.

A thought suddenly occurs to him and Oliver glances to his watch. _1:51 a.m._ , it reads. _December 25, 2013_. His breath hitches and he feels horrible for forgetting, even with her gone.

"Ollie?" Sara says, her voice tensing in response to his breath.

"I'm fine," he says immediately. He pauses for a second and smiles softly. "Happy birthday, Sara."

There's another beat and this time he knows she's smiling.

 

 

 

The burner's disconnected the next morning.

It's not much to go off of, but it's something. More than he's ever had. So he gets to work.

He isn't going to lose her again.

 

 

Sara’s phone buzzes softly on the table. She stares at it for a brief second before she looks up at him and raises a brow. He grins at her and gestures for her to answer it.

“Yes, Ollie?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

“What do you want for dinner?”

She raises her brow higher. “Is there a reason you needed to call me – when we’re in the same room – to ask me this?”

“Because,” he grins. “I _can_.”

Because she’s home. Because he’s home. Because they’re both there _together_ and he can do something as trivial as call her to ask what she wants to have for dinner. Because for the first time in longer than he can remember “ _because_ ” is enough of a reason.

Sara stares at him for a moment before a grin tugs at her lips. “Sushi,” she says before she leans over and kisses him.

 

 

Oliver stares at the blank screen on his phone, not daring to dial the numbers his fingers itch to press. Not that it would matter, he thinks. If he knows Sara, she's already trashed the phone and found a new burner.

Still, on the off chance that she hasn’t, he wants to call her. Tell her what happened.

_Slade, he came out of nowhere. He said I had to -_

_My_ mom _, Sara. My mom is -_

_I-I can't do this. You told me I need to let people in. I can't. I want to. I need to._

_I need_ you _._

He doesn't call though. Can't do it. Won't do it. Not when she's so adamant on leaving. Especially when he knows she will come back. And he doesn't want that. Not until _she_ wants to.

He puts his phone away.

 

 

It's stupid and it’s selfish, but a part of him assumed that when Sara came back from wherever it was she went to, she would eventually come back to him. It's what they do after all - run away as far and as fast as they can until they stop and run back towards each other.

Except this time.

Oliver wants to blame her for leaving, but he can't. Suddenly he can't be selfish and stupid, not when she's gone for such selfless reasons. Because without the League's help, he's not sure they would have made it. And Sara knew that, so she left. Went back to the place she said she would rather die than return to, so that everyone else could live.

He knows he should be there when she leaves. Say goodbye and thank her. But he can't. Not again. Because every time Sara leaves, Oliver’s world falls apart. And it's selfish and stupid, but he can't handle that. Not now. Not after everything else.

So he lets her go and hopes that maybe – just _maybe_ – it'll be different this time.

 

 

He wakes up with a jolt. His heart pounds and his eyes frantically search the room. Slowly, the realization that it was just a dream sinks in. His fingers clench the sheets and he tries to calm his breath. It doesn’t work.

He needs to hit something.

Oliver’s half way to a punching bag when he spots his phone. A frown tugs on his lips because he knows he shouldn’t. He _really_ shouldn’t. Because she left and there’s Felicity and this _thing_ between them and who knows what’s happening between her and Nyssa now and he has _no right_.

He reaches for the phone anyway, because he doesn’t care. He just needs to know she’s still okay. That letting her go back to the League didn’t sentence her to another death. He _needs_ to know.

It rings twice before there’s silence. The only sign that there’s even a person on the other side is the gentle sound of breathing. Oliver thinks it might be the most comforting sound in the world.

“Sara…” he whispers.

“Ollie,” she says gently. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I just –” _Need you_. “Dream.”

There’s a beat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, momentarily forgetting that she isn’t actually there with him. “No.”

“Okay,” she says, and leaves it at that.

He’d almost forgotten how easy it is with her. How little he needed to explain himself because she just _knows_. It almost makes it harder – not having her there anymore.

He wants to tell her – ask her to come home again, the League of Assassins be damned. Because the city needs her. Her family needs her. _He_ needs _her_.

But he can’t. So he doesn’t.

Instead, he stays there in silence, just listening to the sound of her breath.

 

 

Oliver finds one of her old burners in her safe-house. There are no pictures on it, no text messages, no recent calls. It’s a small, disposable phone, one that was probably old and out of date before she ever had a use for something like a burner phone. Something quick and easy to use that she could toss easily. It’s her most recent one – the one she bought when she came back to Starling.

He knows, because it rings when he calls her number.

No one will answer, obviously. But he sits through the ringing because he needs to talk to her. To explain everything.

“Malcolm’s alive,” he says. His voice quivers slightly, but he doesn’t try to hide it. He never had to hide from Sara. “Nyssa thinks it was him who… who…” Oliver shakes his head. “It isn’t. I know it isn’t. It _can’t_ be him. Because if it was – if he’s alive because I didn’t kill him –”

It’d be his fault. If Meryln was responsible for what happened to Sara because _Oliver_ didn’t stop him when he had the chance then it’s his fault. Sara died because of him. Again. And there’s no coming back from it this time. She died for real and it will be all his fault.

There’s a lot Oliver can live with, but he doesn’t think that’s one of them.

“I-I’m going to find who did this, Sara. The real person. I promise I will.”

There’s no response.

 

 

He’s wrong.

Of course he’s wrong. It’s Oliver’s specialty after all – fucking everything up. Being wrong. Letting Meryln win.

“I can’t do it,” he tells her phone that night. “I’m so sorry, Sara. I _can’t_. Not when it’s Thea. She’s the only family I –” He takes a breath. “I’m sorry. I have to.”

Oliver’s pretty sure she would understand.

He’ll ask her, he thinks. It won’t be that much longer until he sees her again.

 

 

Sara once told him that she gave her soul to the devil. He thought he understood back then. After all, he’s done far more than his fair share of horrible things. But this? This might be the worst thing he’s ever done. The worst _he_ ’s ever been. 

He needs to do it to take Ra’s al-Ghul down. To stop his plans. To save Oliver’s city.

To save _Sara_ ’s city.

Sara would understand better than anyone, Oliver tells himself over and over. When he lies to Felicity, when he takes Lyla, when he betrays his friends and family. If no one else ever understands, he thinks at least she would. She would understand why he has to sell his soul to the devil.

He tells himself this, but he doesn’t dare let himself pick up the phone and tell her because, deep down, he knows there’s no excuse for what he’s done. There’s no salvation.

Because Sara would have never been okay with any of this.

 

 

Oliver doesn’t call Sara after he leaves Star City. It isn’t fair to Felicity, he knows, to hold onto Sara’s ghost when it’s Felicity he promised to be with. Promised to _live_ with. It’s especially not fair when he’s happily let the rest of his past go.

Sara would be happy for him, he thinks. She always liked Felicity. And Sara wanted him to be happy. Felicity does that. The life he’s building with her does that. For the first time in a very long time, he feels free. So he doesn’t call Sara and tells himself that he’s moving on.

But he keeps the burner. It’s stupid and selfish and goes against everything else he just said, but he keeps it.

He’s moving on, but that doesn’t mean he’s willing to let go.

 

 

When a woman shows up with Sara’s face, hunting down young girls, Oliver knows everything is about to change.

He’s right, of course, and the result is chaos. Between Laurel and Constantine, between hospitals and hell itself, everything seems like it’s the end of the world. There’s no time to rest, much less breathe. Yet he finds himself hidden away with his ear pressed against his phone.

“I wouldn’t have done it,” Oliver says. “What Laurel did. I did it once for Thea, but I wasn’t going to do it again. But Laurel did it and now there’s this thing parading around, pretending to be you… But we’re going to bring you back.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “I meant it, Sara, when I told you I would help you find your soul.” He pauses and, despite everything happening, a small smile tugs at his lips. “You’re coming home. For real this time.”

There’s no answer, but for once it doesn’t matter because he knows it’ll be the last time.

The next time he calls, Sara will be there to answer him.

 

 

 _sara’s leaving_ , Thea texts him a few days later.

_she’s taking the train to central city. tonight._

_go. say goodbye this time._

Part of Oliver knows that he shouldn’t. Not with everything going on with him and Felicity, with how Felicity is feeling. He can’t just go chasing after an ex-girlfriend when his current girlfriend is mad at him. Even Oliver knows that isn’t right.

Except Sara was never _just_ his girlfriend. She was something else, something more. That’s not to say more or less than Felicity. It was just different. It was Sara. Is Sara.

 _His_ Sara.

Who is leaving him. Again.

Oliver sends Thea a thank you text before hopping onto his bike and speeding to the station. It doesn’t take him long to find her, sitting alone in a corner with a single bag and her favorite cap on. He could find her anywhere, he thinks, if he only knows to look for her.

“You have a bad habit of not saying goodbye,” he says.

She tilts her head up and gives him a tight smile. “You’re one to talk.” Her lips purse. “I know why you’re here. Ollie, I can’t stay.”

“It’s your _home_ , Sara. Of course you can.”

He expects her to fight him. To tell him that it isn’t safe for her to stay here. To tell him she needs to learn to control her bloodlust. To do _something_. But instead she sighs, and it suddenly occurs to Oliver how much she may need this – to walk away. Even if it’s only temporarily. God knows he’s done it plenty of times. So he doesn’t try to stop her. Because, after everything, she deserves it.

“Here,” he says instead, holding out a very outdated phone. The kind whose mere existence would offend someone as tech-loving as Felicity. “It’s your –”

“My old burner,” Sara finishes. He has no idea how she even recognizes it, but she does. She takes it from him, tracing her fingers across the screen. Her lips purse again. “Why do you…”

“It was all I had,” he says immediately. “When you died, it was all I had left of you. And I wasn’t ready to let you go. So I kept it and I… talked to you.” This time it’s him who gives her a tight smile. “The next time you think you don’t belong here, listen to it.” He closes the little distance between them. His eyes close and he presses his lips against her forehead. “You were missed. You will always be missed, Sara.”

 “I’ll miss you, too, Ollie. Always.” She reaches up to cup his cheek. Without thinking, he leans into her touch.

And in that moment, there’s nothing else – just him and her. _Them_. Together.

But that moment ends and reality comes crashing back.

A voice over the speakers announces that all passengers for the Central City train need to board. Sara pulls back and gives him one last tight smile before she grabs her bag, turns, and walks away. And just like that, he’s left standing there alone with the realization that he never said goodbye.

 

 

Oliver almost called her once upon a time. A life time after the Gambit sank, but long before Coast City or the League of Assassins. When there was no such thing as the Arrow or the Canary. When there was just Oliver and the ghost of Sara.

To this day, he still doesn’t know exactly what compelled him to do it, but he found himself standing in front of a payphone in Hong Kong, his fingers threatening to dial a phone number he didn’t remember memorizing. Which just about sums up his relationship with Sara, because he wasn’t supposed to know her number by heart. Nothing about her was supposed to be anywhere near his heart. She was Sara – Laurel’s kid sister. She wasn’t supposed to be the person he reaches to call when there’s nothing left.

And she still couldn’t be, he’d thought in that moment, because there really was nothing left, including Sara. She _died_. Slipped through his fingers and went down with the ship.

So he put the receiver down, bent his head, clenched his fists, and cried.

Screamed.

 _Mourned_.

Because she was gone. Forever. It was all his fault.

And he would never even get to say goodbye.

 

 

In the end, Oliver and Felicity break up.

It has nothing to do with Sara or Ray or even with William. Not really. In the end, they break up because of _Oliver_ and _Felicity_ , and no one else.

Being with Felicity made him feel free. Free of his past, of the horrible things he did, free of being just the Arrow. It made him feel like the Oliver Queen he wants to be.

Except he isn’t that Oliver Queen. He’s the Oliver Queen who spent five years in hell, who came back damaged, who became a vigilante because it’s what he thought his father wanted. He’s the Oliver Queen who is _selfish_ and _messy_ and _broken_. That’s who he is and he thinks it’s time he accepts that part of himself instead of pretending to be someone else. Anything else isn’t fair to him or to Felicity.

They’re still friends in the end. It’s hard at first, but they still work together and find a peace between them. They’ve been through too much to have it any other way.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when she moves on and he’s left wondering if he will ever have anything resembling happiness ever again.

 

 

Oliver’s eyes snap open and he gasps for breath. His fingers clutch the sheets until his knuckles turn white. His heart pounds in his chest and only slows down when he comes to his senses and realizes it was just a dream.

He reaches for his phone and his fingers stumble as he searches for Sara’s name. But he freezes when he finds it and his senses come flooding back to him, and he remembers that he can’t do this. She’s off saving the planet – travelling through time, hunting for a villain no one else can catch. He can’t just _call_ her because he had a bad dream.

Oliver sighs and turns the screen of his phone off. But it lights up before he can put it away, and Sara’s picture appears in front of him. It’s an old photo, one he took the first time she truly returned to Starling City – to him. Back when they thought the worst had passed and they could finally be happy.

He presses the green button and lifts the phone to his ear. “Sara…”

“Ollie,” she breathes from the other side. She sounds relieved, as if she wasn’t sure he’d answer.

“Are you okay? Did something –”

“Future,” she says before he can ask any more questions. “I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” he says, because he understands. Really, he does. “You don’t have to explain.”

And just like that, they fall back into silence. He’d forgotten how comfortable it could be with her – just listening to her breathe. He never had to pretend with Sara. It’s amazing, he thinks, how they always managed to grow into each other. No matter how far apart they are or how different things are, they fall back to each other.

And this could be it, he thinks. He could just leave it like this and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing. It could be the same as always. Except, he realizes, he doesn’t want that. He _can’t_ have that. Not anymore. Because falling asleep to her breath means waking up to her gone. To losing her again.

“Sara,” he says suddenly.

“Ollie?” she says, a little surprised when he disrupts their pattern.

It suddenly occurs to him that he has no idea what to say. What he’s even allowed to say to her anymore. But he knows what he doesn’t want to say. Because he isn’t that boy lost in Hong Kong, and she isn’t the ghost of someone he once knew. Because right now he’s just Oliver and she’s just Sara, and that’s never going to change. He’s never going to lose her again – there is no end to their story. There will never be an end for them. They will find each other, time and time again. No matter what.

“Hello,” he says instead, because he won’t say goodbye to her. Ever.

There’s a beat and he can hear the smile tugging at her lips. The one she grew into as they got older. “Hi, Ollie,” she says.

It’s a beginning.

  

**.**

**Hello from the other side**

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspiration.](http://in-acoalmine.tumblr.com/post/130793820641/headcanon-that-oliver-didnt-delete-saras-number)


End file.
